When The Flames Spark
by MurderedLogic
Summary: When Harry Potter, due to the Ministry's intrigues, gets a job at Hogwarts, flames of emotion start to grow between Harry and his shrewd former-professor-turned-colleague, Severus Snape. But are they the flames of passion or hate? SSHP Slash, Lemon, MPREG
1. Solutions

**Story Summary**: Fearful of a second Dark army rising, the Ministry of Magic seeks to keep tabs on those who fought in the war by forcing them into career positions beneath Ministry officials' watchful eyes. When the famous Harry Potter gets a teaching job at Hogwarts, flames of emotion start to grow between Harry and his shrewd former-professor-turned-colleague, Severus Snape. Are they the flames of passion or flames of hate…or flames from the youngest Creevy's exploding cauldron?

**Pairings**: Severus Snape x Harry Potter.

**Warning**: This chapter-fic contains _Adult Situations_ pertaining to Slash, Lemon, MPREG, Strong Language, and some OOC-ness.

If you don't understand what these words mean or are uncomfortable with homosexual themes, then you should not be reading this fanfiction. _I will not be blamed for your ignorance or prejudice_.

**This fanfiction is beta-read and practically co-written by **_**Prose by S.A.**_

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter© is the property of the incredible J.K. Rowling. Other characters and plot independent of Rowling's original creation are my property. I, MurderedLogic, in no way make any profit from this story. Do not take/use any material from this story without my express permission.

**Author's Note**: This chapter is short, but it's my first fanfic ever! I was trying to set up the bunny, so to speak. I hope to know what everyone thinks; criticism is welcome if it helps improve my story and my writing skills. I love feedback! Fear not, Severus will be in the story soon.

_**When The Flames Spark**_

_**By MurderedLogic**_

_**Chapter one – Solutions**_

"Harry, my dear boy, what brings you here today?" enquired the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry sat on a cozy purple armchair in front of Dumbledore's desk, watching as his eccentric ex-professor opened a drawer and pulled out a tin box. Waiting patiently for Harry's answer, the old wizard opened the box and plucked out a yellow candy. _Figures_.

"I'm sure you are already aware that the Ministry is interfering in the lives of the students who fought in the war, sir," said Harry with a bitter sneer, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and brushing some loose black strands out of his vision.

"Yes, it is quite unfortunate. It would seem now that Voldemort is dead, the world fears of another Dark force rising. I'm afraid these unfounded fears have a special hold on the elders of the Wizengamot," Albus Dumbledore said conversationally, placing the candy in his mouth and turning to look out the window. "They're in the process of passing a law restricting those who fought in the war. I'm against it, of course, but the majority rules. It seems fear has blinded them and they see make-believe enemies amongst allies. Those without a secure and upstanding union with the Minister and his ilk will be forced into a profession of the Ministry's choosing. It's not official yet; they're still working around all the kinks, and by kinks I mean civil rights laws, but those are the essentials. There's just no help for it."

"Yes, I've heard. They wish to keep an eye on everyone," Harry snorted mirthlessly, his acid green eyes flashing. "Suspicious old coots…no offense. It's just…I don't like the idea of the Ministry placing me under its thumb...I've lived under it's manipulations for too long. I just thought this stuff would end with Voldemort gone. I'm tired of being taken advantage of," Harry explained with a resigned sigh as he, too, turned toward the window to see if it held the answers to their problems. The day was sunny and cheerful outside, a complete contrast to his mood.

"That's understandable, Harry, and I don't like it any more than you do." Dumbledore turned back to Harry and offered a candy to him. Harry took the proffered sweet and the old wizard continued. "As you are affected by this new law, I had already thought of a few solutions for you to consider; disappearing entirely, although that seems a little extreme, marriage to someone with enough power and money to hold off the Ministry…there are still some of the old families the Ministry just won't touch…or, and this is really your only alternative, complying with the law, no matter how unappealing that seems." Dumbledore spared himself a small chuckle at Harry's expense, conjuring up a delicate tea service for two with crumpets.

Harry smiled his thanks, reaching for his cup and doctoring it to his tastes. "I've heard through the gossip chain that lots of the old pureblood families are arranging marriages for their children to Ministry officials, or those loyal to the Minister. Why, just the other day I heard Ernie Macmillan's family made an arrangement with the Browns…I think Lavender's uncle is the one that does some paper-pushing for the Ministry – anyway, it's completely ridiculous. And since I'm technically a Black, I can't legally enter into a marriage contract without Sirius' say-so. Like that'll happen any time soon," said Harry, fighting hard to not roll his eyes at the injustice.

Because the Blacks were old purebloods, they were held to subtuary rules, separate traditions and laws only practiced by the elite of wizarding society, and so permission from the Head of the House was needed in order to enter into a marriage alliance. It would simply not do for a Black to marry someone of low status and soil the Black family name. Personally, Sirius had never cared for this tradition and, as Head of the House, had planned to strike it from the Black family Covenant, but sadly never got around to it. Though the Ministry had caught and convicted Peter Pettigrew for his crimes, they still had not cleared Sirius' name. He was still a wanted man for breaking out of Azkaban and running from the Ministry for five years.

"Aren't you acting as proxy-Head-of-House, Harry? Keeping Sirius's legal affairs in order and running his estate?" reminded Dumbledore, sipping his tea and peering at his former-student over half-moon spectacles.

"Well, yes, but I only have so much power; I can't change a Covenant, not while Sirius is still alive...Anyway, I wouldn't want to get married. I guess that really narrows my options, huh?"

Dumbledore smiled at Harry and said, "That is why I think the best solution is for you to work for me as a teacher here, at Hogwarts."

"A teacher?"

"Of course, Harry. You did quite the job with Dumbledore's Army. Did you not enjoy it?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes lit in a bright twinkle as he helped himself to a crumpet.

"Well, yes, but…I never actually thought about making a career of it," Harry answered.

"Would you accept the position as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry sat in the plushy chair, tea forgotten, stunned. He hadn't gone to Dumbledore for a job. He hadn't even considered it as an option, but it made perfect sense. Dumbledore was an elder on the Wizengamot council and as such, he had an incredible amount of influence and power in the Ministry. Working under Dumbledore would protect him from the Ministry and its intrigues. Plus, Harry had always considered Hogwarts as more than his home…it was his sanctuary. And who could argue with free room-and-board…not to mention the food. Ah, the _food_… if nothing else, the food was reason enough to stay. And, as an added bonus, it would drive Professor Snape absolutely stark-raving-mad that he'd taken the coveted position of Defense teacher. _Why the hell not? What could be so bad about teaching a bunch of rowdy, accident-prone, magical kids?_

With a final nod to himself, Harry replied, "Well, in that case…I accept."

SSHP

Because the Daily Prophet can't keep its mouth shut, you probably already know of the famous Golden Boy's exploits. Suffice it to say, Harry Potter had been through a lot of trying times during his life. And he had taken the good parts as well as the bad all in stride. But that's all in the past, what we should be concerned about is his very-near future.

Harry Potter thought he had seen it all; pain, suffering, all that jazz.

Unbeknownst to our favorite hero, with a moody Snape down the hall and a group of third years who would rather be playing Exploding Snap instead of learning about Red Caps and Hinky Punks, Harry would soon be knee deep in 'all that jazz' and discover, first hand, the true definition of suffering.

To be continued…


	2. Frustrations

**Recap**: Because of the Ministry's machinations, Harry acquires the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He's in for a surprise if he thinks life will be a piece of cake as a Hogwarts teacher…hmm, cake.

**This fanfiction is beta-read and practically co-written by **_**Prose by S.A.**_

**Author's Note**: I apologize for the lateness, but my Beta-reader (i.e. my cousin) didn't make the deadline (ahem). (Chains her to her computer and takes away her Caspian-plushie) she says she's sorry as well, doesn't she? (S.A. vigorously nods at the crazy author – "Please review, she has my plushie hostage!")

_**When The Flames Spark**_

_**By MurderedLogic**_

_**Chapter two – Frustrations**_

Severus Snape, ever the dark and formidable figure, sat at the Teacher's Table in the Great Hall with the habitual sneer on his face, awaiting this year's batch of Hogwarts' magical students. It was the start of a new term. The students, returning and new, would be filing into the large expanse of a room, all their boisterous excitement and nerves loudly filling the air until the Potions Master felt the stirrings of a headache. Severus didn't think the room could be big enough to escape the disgusting frivolity, so he settled with honing his famous scowl (a look that could make a grown man wet himself), though somewhat unused during the summer months, on some innocent second years. They didn't cower _immediately,_ so he determined that he was out of shape and needed some practice…he would no doubt be back to his old self, scowl and all, by the night's end…and if he was really auspicious, he might even send a fifth year screaming down the aisles. _Formalities, formalities_…he only attended the Start-of-Term-Feast on Dumbledore's wishes anyways.

_Gods, I hope I fireproofed the dungeons already, no doubt the Creevy brothers will manage to blow something up in the first five minutes._ He hated this time of year. It meant he would acquire a new set of clumsy and destructive dunderheads to whom he would have the great displeasure of teaching the delicate art of potion-making. _Not only that, but a new blithering idiot – I mean colleague – that will be taking over the Defense class…._

Dumbledore had told Severus that he had found a replacement so that, "you can keep working with your beloved potions." The old coot, bless his soul, had even had a twinkle beneath his half-moon spectacles as he'd said it. The old wizard had been evasive as to the identity of the new professor; he had just smiled at Severus and said, "It will be a delightful surprise, my boy. Good lord, I'd say you might even enjoy it." A little more than slightly put off, Severus had excused himself with the justification that he'd had a potion that needed to be tended.

Like he'd predicted, the sudden noise of the bustling cretins – er, students – had interrupted his thoughts. They were finding their seats at the house tables, talking animatedly to one another. Only when everyone had found their proper place and quieted down did Professor McGonagall retrieve the first years, who gaped at the magical ceiling with wonder and innocence, to be sorted. The surly Potions Master couldn't be bothered to pay attention.

Before Severus knew it, the headmaster was standing and warning the students not to trek into the Dark Forest, to not wander the corridors after hours, and to refrain from misusing magic, et cetera. Apparently Filch had banned all of the Weasley Wizard Wheeze's products from the school's premises, much to the students' dismay. _Thank heavens for little miracles._

"And now, for the moment I know some of you may be curious about – the introduction to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Unfortunately, our new Defense professor will not be joining us tonight. He is attending to some affairs in London and will not be here 'till the start of classes this Monday," Dumbledore announced to the school's population, which was followed by some disappointed groans. Severus had to stop himself from sighing in frustration as well. However, all were still looking at their beloved headmaster expectantly, waiting for him to give the name of this new professor. Ever the eccentric, the old wizard just tipped his hat with a nonchalant, "Well, tuck in and enjoy the feast," as if it explained everything.

Severus glared at the headmaster as he sat back down at the head table. "Aren't you going to eat Severus? It is quite the feast! The house elves really outdid themselves this year," Dumbledore exclaimed while helping himself to a giant spoonful of mashed potatoes, never mind that the house elves outdid themselves _every_ year.

Severus gathered a portion of vegetables and chicken on his plate as if to satisfy the old wizard before he turned and asked Dumbledore, "Albus, why will you not tell anyone on the staff about this new professor? Is it _really_ that much of a secret? It is not as if I will begrudge them….I am quite content with Potions." He practically spat this out and found it hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Oh, I know, my boy. However, I wish to keep this a secret because…it humors me to do so. Would you deny an old wizard a joke or two?" He asked harmlessly, his eyes sparkling with unhidden mirth. Dumbledore turned away, signaling the end to the conversation. "Would you be so kind to pass the gravy, Minerva?"

"Bloody Gryffindors," Severus muttered under his breath and continued to eat his meal in silence, glaring at the students all the while.

SSHP

The first morning of classes rolled by and still no sign of the new Defense professor, who had been the talk of the school the entire weekend. Everyone was gossiping about whom they thought he would be, each idea seeming more and more ridiculous; honestly, nobody, not even Dumbledore, would hire a giant to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts...such was the absurdity of the rumors flying around.

"Detention, Mr. Greggory. I will absolutely not tolerate another snippet of gossip in my class. If I hear _one_ more whisper, the whole class will be assigned nightly potions essays for two weeks on top of regular homework, is that clear?" Severus asked in a deadly stern tone as he was handing out the syllabus for his fourth year class. Everyone nodded and it looked as if several students were holding their breath. If ten detentions on the first day of class was anything to go by, then it was safe to assume that Professor Snape was not in a good mood. _I guess it would be easier to cast a silence spell, but the sadistic side of me likes to cackle as they squirm. _

Lunch had finally arrived after what seemed like ages of monotonously blathering on about the most boringly basic ingredients. He was headed for the Great Hall from the dungeons when he couldn't help but overhear a group of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students as they passed by, discussing what he assumed was the new Defense professor.

"I can't believe it's _him_!" one girl squealed excitedly.

"He's absolutely gorgeous!" whispered another dreamily.

"He's totally wicked, mate. I can't believe all the stuff he told us _actually_ happened to him," a boy said to his friends.

Severus was severely irritated by the time he entered the Great Hall. He sat down at the head table in his customary seat next to the headmaster, who smiled at him and continued talking to Professor Flitwick about the latest home decorating charms. _They must be the _only_ ones _not_ talking about the new professor…just my luck_._ He hasn't even shown his face and already he's the talk of the whole bloody school. If I didn't know any better, I would say it was..._

Then, just as he was about to finish that train of thought, in he walks through the teacher's door…the one and only…Harry Potter. The-bloody-boy-who-wouldn't-_bloody_-die_._ The _bane_ of Snape's existence. And apparently, professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts to boot…figures. _Fan-fucking-tastic…I should have known this was what Dumbledore had up his overly-elaborate sleeve._

SSHP

Severus had seen many things as both a teacher and a spy and he liked to think he'd be prepared for anything that Albus Dumbledore could throw at him. But nothing, not even Trelawny's tea leaves or crystal ball, could have prepared him to watch the very adult version of The Golden Boy join the teachers at the head table.

Severus shook his head slightly, barely containing the loathing he felt rising in his throat at the sheer audacity that Potter had the guts to sit at the same table with the teachers he'd practically tormented for seven years (as he'd had to suffer through reading the boy's potions essays, he couldn't imagine what the other professors must have endured). Gods, he despised Potter and his perfect reputation, and his perfect smile, and his perfect hair, his perfect shoulders…his perfect skin. Yet there he was, cheerily making conversation with Professor Vector and Madame Hooch as if they'd always been old friends. Severus couldn't conceal his grimace as he poked at his food and desperately tried to ignore the Potter-turned-professor (which was harder than he'd thought).

Pomona Sprout, who had also witnessed Potter's interactions with fondness, leaned closer to Severus subtly and whispered conspiratorially, "Fifty galleons says the Daily Prophet will be all over this in twenty-four hours."

Severus, not one to peg Sprout for a gambler, raised his eyebrows, then glanced at Potter again as if weighing his chances. Something mysterious rose up inside him at that very moment, an unknown emotion that made his scowl disappear, something that had suddenly turned the tables, something that had planted a little seed inside his brain and made him think, _Well, if nothing else, this could get interesting_.

As he turned back to Professor Sprout, he had a smug glint in his dark eyes. "You're on."

To be continued


End file.
